


Hot in Here

by Aurum



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Fluff and Humor, M/M, POV Katsuki Yuuri, Sixth Skate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-04
Updated: 2016-12-04
Packaged: 2018-09-06 13:10:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8752840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aurum/pseuds/Aurum
Summary: "Yuuuuuri," Victor drawls, leaning his head on Yuuri's shoulder. "It's hot," he complains. He's already down to his t-shirt.Yuuri huffs a little, reluctantly amused. "Maybe you would feel cooler if you didn't drape yourself all over me."





	

Inviting Celestino was a bad idea.

It's not because of the awkwardness, although there is that too. Not that anyone besides Yuuri seems to feel it. Celestino greets them with a cheerful "Ciao, ciao," Victor immediately tries to feed him a shrimp, and Phichit herds his coach into their booth, his hand not pausing even for a moment where he's tapping at his phone. He's probably liveblogging their dinner for the world.

The problem is that Celestino gets very competitive. It's a good quality in a coach, but rather more troublesome when it involves Victor and easy access to alcohol.

To Victor's credit, it's Celestino who starts it with some friendly taunts about Phichit taking the top spot tomorrow. Victor responds without batting an eye, announcing his full confidence in Yuuri as he bumps their shoulders together. Yuuri smiles down at his plate, trying to keep the warm glow inside him from lighting up his face.

"Yuuri's certainly got what it takes, I would know," Celestino says, sprawling loosely in his chair. "But can he reach his potential with such a green coach, hmm?"

Victor's smile grows dangerously wide, but before Yuuri can make an attempt at damage control, there's a "Yuuri, look!" from Phichit and a phone screen full of puppies up in his face. Yuuri looks away from their coaches for one minute (the dogs are really very cute), and when he looks back there's a full-blown drinking contest happening to his right.

He tries to stop them, a little feebly, but apparently they're determined to prove their coaching prowess by consuming alarming amounts of Chinese liquor. Yuuri feels a little bad for his former coach, but really, Celestino should know better. Victor is 1) Russian, and 2) not interested in dispelling these stereotypes, so that's over almost before Yuuri can get someone to bring them some water.

Celestino ends up slumped on the table, with his eyes glassy and Phichit poking his shoulder as he documents his coach's defeat with photos. Yuuri's thanking the waiter and eyeing the rather small bottle doubtfully when an arm loops itself around his neck.

"Yuuuuuri," Victor drawls, leaning his head on Yuuri's shoulder. "It's hot," he complains. He's already down to his t-shirt.

Yuuri huffs a little, reluctantly amused. "Maybe you would feel cooler if you didn't drape yourself all over me."

Victor hums in consideration and turns his head. He drags his nose across Yuuri's jaw to bury it in the short hair behind his ear. Yuuri shivers with the puff of warm breath on his neck when Victor says: "That's true, you're very hot."

A muffled laugh from across the table interrupts him before he can figure out how to reply. Phichit's apparently decided that they're more interesting than Celestino and he's watching them through the camera on his phone. He looks up to grin and say: "Oh, I agree!"

"Phichit-kun," Yuuri says in admonishment, even as Victor unhelpfully makes an approving sound. Phichit just smiles wider and taps the screen.

The wise course of action would be to confiscate his phone, but that seems a bit risky. Yuuri's never seen Phichit part with it for more than thirty seconds at a time, so maybe he does actually need his phone to live. Phichit certainly seems to believe so.

Victor considers Celestino's sorry state for a moment before turning back. "Yuuri, I won," he says brightly. "Do I get a prize?"

"What prize? I thought winning was your prize." Yuuri looks around quickly in case Victor really demands something in reward. His eyes fall on the water bottle. "Ah, Victor, you should drink some water."

Victor takes it with a pout and a sigh. "Alright, Yuuri," he says, bringing the bottle to his lips obediently.

It seemed like a good idea for distraction, but Yuuri sorely underestimated Victor's ability to make a simple action look absolutely obscene. Victor tilts his head back and raises the bottle high, water rushing past his open lips. Some escapes at the corner of his mouth to run down his jaw and neck in a thin rivulet. His throat works rhythmically as he swallows in big gulps and Yuuri feels himself swallow thickly too, as if in reply.

He wrenches his eyes up only to see Victor looking at him sideways from under his lowered eyelashes. His lips curl up in a small smile as he lowers the bottle, draws it away from his mouth with a wet sound and hands it back. "Here, Yuuri." And then, in a move both unnecessary and unfair, he licks his lips.

"Uh, thank you," Yuuri says nonsensically, then slides his eyes closed in mortification.

Victor makes a vague humming noise and heaves a sigh. "It's still hot," he says.

Yuuri has to agree. Maybe they should just head back to the hotel, where he'll be able to cool off, bury himself under the covers and not have to look at Victor getting progressively more flushed and disheveled. That would be nice and good for his sanity.

But when he's ready to open his eyes again, he's greeted by the sight of Victor tugging his t-shirt up. "Victor, no!" he says, reaching out to grab his hands and halt the movement.

Victor blinks at him and smiles. "Do you want to do it yourself, Yuuri?"

Yuuri snatches his hands back as if burned. It does feel like he might catch on fire any second now, and Victor's not helping when he tugs his shirt up and off anyway, ignoring Yuuri's stuttered protests.

Phichit, his own personal friend who by all rights should be on Yuuri's side, betrays him by making disappointed sounds. "Aww, Yuuri, you should be more helpful!"

Yuuri turns to narrows his eyes at him, though he's a tiny bit grateful for the excuse to look away from Victor for a moment. "Phichit-kun," he starts, but then his eyes fall to Phichit's phone, still aimed at them. A new sense of dread settles over him. "...you're not posting this online, are you?"

"No, no," Phichit replies, pausing long enough for Yuuri to exhale in relief. Then he grins and adds: "This is for blackmail." And before Yuuri can do anything but choke on air, he leans out of their booth and waves. "Hey, Leo! Guang-Hong!"

Victor puts his arms around Yuuri and pulls him back, plastering himself to his side again, this time with a lot more skin that much closer to Yuuri's. Apparently he decided that Yuuri stopped paying attention to him for too long. He's paying a lot of attention to every point of contact now, as the other skaters come up to their table.

"Oh, sorry," Yuuri says, swaying in Victor's hold and using his limited range of motion to wave his hand at them. "Victor's had way too much to drink."

Leo waves back. Guang-Hong just stares.

"Let's all go to a hot spring," Victor says brightly and squeezes Yuuri tighter.

"What?" he says, trying to turn in the embrace. "Victor, what are you saying?"

"Hot spring..." Victor continues, humming something vaguely resembling a tune. "Hasetsu Hot Springs, great place..."

As nice as it is to have him as a Hasetsu tourism ambassador, it's really not the time and place for this. Victor's hold on Yuuri disappears, but any relief is short-lived, since his hands immediately go for his jeans button. He has it undone in half a second.

"Hey, don't strip!" Yuuri protests with no use. If he wasn't horrified, he would be pretty impressed with Victor's dexterity, because the cramped space doesn't seem to slow him down at all. He's already halfway out of his jeans along with his underwear, praising the wonders of hot springs all the while. Yuuri hides his face in his hands.

"This is kind of R-rated..." Guang-Hong says behind him. He's right, they're too young for this. _Yuuri_ is probably too young for the level of casual depravity that Victor displays — at any given moment, really, but especially now.

"Victor, stop, we're going to get thrown out."

"Don't worry," Phichit says, "we've got Guang-Hong here to explain any misunderstandings."

Guang-Hong looks like he regrets all his decisions leading up to this point. It's hard to fault him for that when Yuuri's full of regret himself.

"Please stop encouraging him, Phichit-kun," he says, exasperated. "You're not the one who will be dealing with this for the rest of the night."

It's not a very successful deterrent. Phichit just looks even more delighted. "Oh, but you are?"

"Not like _that_ ," he huffs, because whatever _that_ is in Phichit's mind, it's just not true. "But yes."

It seems that taking his eyes off Victor even for a moment was a mistake. By the time Yuuri turns back to him, Victor's dealt with his shoes somehow. He tugs the rest of his clothes off and flings them away with a triumphant sound.

Yuuri inhales, taking a second to ask the universe how he's ended up here. Then he tries to locate the clothes.

That turns out to be pretty easy. Just outside their booth Leo's pulling Victor's jeans off his face. He blinks down at them and then at Guang-Hong, taking Victor's underwear off his head with two fingers. They both look at the thong for a moment, then at each other.

Yuuri almost falls off the chair in his haste to snatch the clothes back from Leo, spilling apologies. He clutches them in his lap to hide them from view, trying very hard not to think about what he's clutching and where. "Victor, you can't just..." He trails off with a tortured sound.

There's actually a moment of silence from Victor as he looks at Celestino, who's still lying on the table, a quiet gurgling noise escaping his mouth as his only sign of life. And then Victor suddenly turns to Yuuri. "I am, though, right?"

"You're what?" Yuuri asks, because Victor's a great many things and he's going to need some clarification.

"A good coach for you."

Yuuri blinks at him, irritation leaking out with an exhale at the look on Victor's face. Maybe even Victor's confidence can take a hit with both Yakov and Celestino questioning his abilities.

"Of course, Victor," he says, clearing his throat when it comes out too soft. "You're great."

He is, most of the time, though less so when he's naked in the middle of a restaurant in China. Celestino might have brought shame upon Phichit when he passed out after one bottle (not that Phichit seems to mind), but at least he's not on the verge of getting them arrested for public indecency.

Victor's face clears as a smile chases off the rare glimpse of vulnerability. "The best you've ever had?" he asks, his tone shifting closer to teasing.

Now he's just fishing for compliments, but Yuuri's not exactly great at denying him. He smiles despite himself. "The best," he agrees, because Celestino's not conscious enough to take offense, and because Yuuri's not letting go of Victor even if they end up in Chinese jail.

Lips stretching into a grin, Victor throws himself at Yuuri. His arms go around Yuuri's neck and entirely too much skin goes everywhere. Yuuri's too shocked to even scramble for purchase as they crash down to the floor, spilling onto the aisle next to Leo. He wheezes as Victor lands on top of him, too winded to protest when Phichit chooses this moment to angle for a selfie.

"Victor!" he chokes out. "Please get off me!"

Victor pushes up on his arms to look down at Yuuri with a pout. It's all the more potent with a blush spreading down his chest, clearly visible because _he's not wearing any clothes_ and they're now in full view of anyone who turns to look. And they must be looking, who wouldn't be looking at Victor, naked as the day we was born and pressed to Yuuri from stomach to thighs. Yuuri squeezes his eyes shut.

"Please get back to your chair, Victor, please," he says, his voice remarkably steady considering the roar of blood rushing to his head. At least that way the entirety of Victor will be somewhat contained.

There's some shuffling of limbs and very unhelpful friction, but finally the pressure lets off as Victor gets up and slides back into the booth. Guang-Hong's saying something over their heads in Chinese, hopefully apologizing for the commotion and not calling for security. Yuuri takes a deep breath and pushes himself up, gathering Victor's clothes again and flopping onto his chair. He straightens his glasses.

"They do this a lot, right?" Guang-Hong asks quietly. He sounds a bit shaken.

"Looks like it, yeah," Leo replies, putting his arm around him in solidarity.

Yuuri would argue, but technically they're not even wrong. Victor being handsy with him is hardly a new thing, even when they're both naked and wet from the bath. The only real change is the venue, but that's exactly the problem. "I'm so sorry," he says instead. "Please forgive Victor, he's..."

"Naked?" Guang-Hong says faintly, clearly still not over it, which is understandable. It's only because of the repeated exposure over the last months that Yuuri's able to keep his eyes open now.

"Shameless?" Leo suggests, raising his eyebrows. That's also fair.

Phichit grins so widely it's obvious that whatever is going to come out of his mouth will be much worse. "Thirsty?"

"Drunk," Yuuri corrects with a sigh. He turns to Victor, trying to nudge the clothes at him under the table. "Victor, put your clothes back on."

Victor peers at him through his fringe. "Do you like them that much, Yuuri?"

"I love them," he agrees, because it seems like the quickest way to achieve decency. "Please put them on."

"Okay." Victor takes the jeans and leans down to get into them, forgoing the underwear completely. Yuuri looks at the thong he's still holding and opens his mouth, but snaps it shut quickly. There's no way he's making Victor take his jeans off again. He takes a bracing breath and stuffs the underwear into his own pocket, a tiny part of his soul expiring right there and then.

"I'm dressed, Yuuri," Victor says with a proud smile. That's just barely true, but at least it's better than a minute ago. Yuuri would wrestle him into his t-shirt too, but mysteriously it's nowhere to be found.

"That's great, Victor. Please keep it that way."

Yuuri inhales deeply and slowly blows out the air, letting the adrenaline from the fall and narrowly avoiding a disaster bleed out of him and leave behind a feeling of lethargy. He slumps down in his chair.

"We'll still go to the hot spring, right?" Victor asks.

"Of course." That actually sounds really great right now, but unfortunately they're pretty far away from Yutopia. "When we're back home."

Victor's smile turns soft around the edges. "Okay, when we're home," he says and shuffles closer to lean his head on Yuuri's shoulder.

"Aww," says Phichit. Yuuri sends him a half-hearted glare, unable to muster up any proper irritation. Phichit just smiles back.

Victor stays still for about ten seconds and then starts to rearrange himself, seemingly on a mission to achieve maximum contact. He puts his arms around Yuuri again and rubs his cheek against his shoulder. "You're still hot, Yuuri."

Yuuri snorts quietly. "You're hotter and I'm not complaining," he says, drawing a delighted chuckle from Victor and more muttering from the peanut gallery.

There's still a lot to be done. He needs to bring Celestino back to the land of the living, unearth Victor's shirt, talk him into putting it on, get the tab sorted out, herd them all into taxis, and tomorrow he'll have to prove to the world that he's worthy of Victor's time—

But for now there's Victor's hair tickling his neck, warmth seeping under his skin, and the thought of a hot bath at home to tide him over. Yuuri allows himself to lean back into Victor and slide his eyes closed with a sigh.

The rest can wait for a minute.


End file.
